


Swords and Serpents

by olasz110



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed RPF
Genre: Anger, Angst, Betrayal, Brothers, Cynical, Enemies, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fanfiction, Fate, Filthy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, I don't know how many times I have to say it but smut smut smut, Jealousy, Major Original Character(s), Male Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Naughty, Oral Sex, Plot Twists, Rating: M, Ratings: R, Romance, Romance Novel, Self-Doubt, Sex, Shameless Smut, Sigurd is salty, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Valhalla, Vikings, a lot of angst too, a lot of smut, kind of like a book, whoopsies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olasz110/pseuds/olasz110
Summary: He set fire to the world around him but he never let a flame touch her.
Relationships: Eivor (Assassin's Creed)/Original Character(s), Eivor (Assassin's Creed)/Original Male Character(s), Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed), Hytham/Randvi (Assassin's Creed), Randvi/Sigurd Styrbjornson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Swords and Serpents

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT!!!!
> 
> *There will be spoilers, so read at your own risk*
> 
> Quick disclaimer. All characters belong to Ubisoft, unless stated otherwise. 
> 
> I hope you like this, as much as I enjoyed writing it . If you do enjoy it, then please leave a kudos and some love in the comments. I would really appreciate it. Also, structural criticism is welcome. If you're not going to provide me with feed back and just going to leave nasty comments, I will report you. 
> 
> I would also like to say that this story will be based on how my Eivor looks. If you want to imagine your own Eivor as the one in the book, feel free to do so. This is an M/F fanfic, and my Eivor is straight so if you don't enjoy heterosexual stories like this, then don't read it. I'm here to satisfy the small community of Randvi x male Eivor shippers, as I've not seen any fanfics based on this ship. I am here to provide shippers with shameless smut, A LOT of angst, and jealousy ;)
> 
> I am not trying to discriminate the lgbtqia+ group in any way by writing about male Eivor. If you'd like me to write female Eivor fan fics, then don't be shy and comment!
> 
> Thank you again for choosing to read my fan fic!
> 
> -olasz110

**_Randvi_ **

****

Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the longhouse, premeditatedly. I’m not sure what to expect exactly, I only hope that Eivor and Sigurd are safe and alive. Unlike last time, when Sigurd came back from certain death after nearly bleeding to death, with a severed arm. Disgust fills me as I push the memory of his missing arm from my mind.

Sun rays pass the golden barks of thick, mossy trees. Thousands of branches spread across the scattered trees, each growing a new set of evergreen leaves. The radiant warmth of the sun’s kiss moves gently across my face. Spring greets my skin, like butterfly wings greeting the air with an uplifting confidence.

Eivor always tries his best to keep us, the clan, safe. He risked his life for all of us many times. When Sigurd begged Eivor to go east, he didn’t think twice. Eivor wanted to be there for his brother, as insane as Sigurd was. It is a trait I admire about him, the way he put others first and how he never goes against his brother, as much as he doesn’t agree with Sigurd’s choices.

I walk past Reda’s shop and a bright smile forms on my lips. “Randvi, look.” His finger points at the once lonesome shipyard. The Raven emblem. They are back.

My breath hitches, and I can’t really believe what I’m seeing. I had my doubts. The way Sigurd spoke, it sounded like they weren’t planning to return, yet here they were. Eivor is here. As I get closer, I notice that Eivor is clutching to the right side of his waist. The pain is visible on his well-chiselled face. A freshly healed scar runs from the middle of his right eyebrow, through his eye and straight to his cheek. His eyes are narrow as he glances up at me. No smile, nothing.

Sigurd looks better than normal. He is acting like the man they once me married to, but I have no regrets. It’s not like there was ever anything between us. My family sold me to him like a brood mare for the sake of my father’s happiness. But now I’m no longer off-limits, I can finally do what I want, and be who I want to be with.

Both emerge from the ship side by side. Eivor is behind Sigurd, he can’t find the energy to walk.

“How was the journey, Eivor?” As his blue pools dawn at me, I grab Eivor’s arm and wrap it around the back of my neck to support him. I’ve never seen him in such an awful shape, and I honestly don’t want to think about the pain that was inflicted on him.

A painful grunt escapes his smooth lips. “We didn’t find what were looking for.” He utters. There is a certain sadness in his voice, a feeling I don’t yet understand. I don’t know what happened, or what they went through to come back in one piece. A part of Eivor has died. Sigurd looks like he enjoyed himself on the trip, but I have yet to discover the strangeness behind his scarred mask.

One is missing a hand, and the other is missing a part of himself. Two broken souls. Two brothers rejected by the gods. Two men fighting for what they believe in, and this is where they end up. Both beaten and twisted by fate, betrayal most of all, but they are alive. I hope that somewhere deep inside of Eivor, there is a light. A spark that will ignite upon the arrival to his home, our home.

As soon as we arrive at the longhouse, Eivor falls asleep immediately, with no worries. Whatever happened must have gotten the best out of him. I feel pity for him, for the state that he is in currently. I don’t know the full story, or what Eivor has done to end up like this, but I hope that he doesn’t deserve it. He is a good man and denying it would be fool’s gold.

I spot Sigurd sitting on a bench, drinking a pint of ale. He waves me to come over as he prompts me to sit next to him. The stench of alcohol fills my flares nostrils. Disgusting. “I saw the way you were staring at him, Randvi.” He burps.

“What are you talking about?” I question him, mimicking his moves by pouring myself a pint. I have no idea what he is actually talking about, but I’m glad that I divorced him. At least one thing in my life is moderately okay. He scratches his head before turning to me with a somewhat defeated stare.

“I know you have feelings for him.” He clears his throat. “I’ve known for a long time.”

I doubt Eivor mentioned anything to his brother. He surely trusts him, but not with things like this. It’s my fault; I’m the one that kissed him on the sunken tower, but I don’t regret it one bit. At least I found out where Eivor and I stand. He had rejected me, not coldly. There was remorse in his eyes. He wanted to act, but his duties prevented him from taking that extra step. It was years ago, and I'm sure that Eivor has completely forgotten about it. 

I don’t know how long I was silent for, but Sigurd studies me with his eyes. He knows. He knows what happened that day. I don’t see a single drop of anger in those emerald eyes, just peace and recluse. A shudder goes down spine as the weight is being lifted off my shoulders. “How did you know, did Eivor tell you?”

“He didn’t have to. I can see everything.” I don’t know if it is the lunatic bragging, or a higher power, but I feel relief. Maybe because Eivor said nothing. It was wrong, it was definitely wrong, and I don’t know what the kiss meant to Eivor, but at that moment and time, it felt right for me. I would not put myself out like that again. Eivor made it pretty clear, and I stopped dwelling on the past and what _could’ve_ been.

Sigurd continues. “I care about Eivor’s happiness, but I also care about yours, so do as you see fit... He is a good man.” Exhaling my breath, I give him a nod and stand up. I just want to live my life and be a free woman. I’m not waiting around for anything. I have but one tie to this place I once called home, and it’s holding me back.

“I’m not exactly sure when, but I will leave Ravensthorpe.” Leaving often crosses my mind, especially after I kissed Eivor. I need to focus on my future, to shape the person I want to be. I want to love, to care for someone, and I think I know where I’m going to find that. Certainly not here.

Minutes turn into hours, and I’m devising a plan for my departure in the war room. The sun has fallen, disappearing behind the brim of where the sky and earth meet. The warmth from the fireplace brings heat to my cheeks, and I am grateful for it. Some nights are chilly, but the fireplace always lives up to its purpose. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to feel loved or _needed_. I crave passion. yet I cannot find it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a quite familiar figure sitting on the Jarl’s throne, and Sigurd is standing right beside him. My thoughts get the best of me, and I decide to interrupt them. Eivor is sitting on the throne with all his might. The darkness of him indulges me and I forget how to breathe. The way his broad shoulders are leaning against the backrest and his large, calloused hands gripping the wood of the armrests is making me feel things. I imagine them gripping my thighs and his tongue the unspeakable. Bless me, Freyja.

His short, black hair is dishevelled, but still shaved on the sides as always. He has a short, black, rugged beard. The black bags under his eyes are giving away the tiredness that he must be feeling. I wish I could find a way of putting his mind at ease. His fingers linger on the oak wood, and I want them to explore me freely.

“What is this?” I point at Eivor. What is he even doing on Sigurd’s throne?

“I, ah...” He can’t form a proper sentence, and Sigurd comes to his rescue. Eivor gives him an unknown look, which I follow to meet with Sigurd’s burning evergreens. He gives me an approving nod, before closing his eyes subtly and walking away. For a second, my gaze lingers.

I hear multiple footsteps entering the great hall, and then Tove gushes. “Eivor has returned. Inside, at the hearth! Come!”

The rest of the settlers gather in front of the throne where Eivor is sitting unsurely. Some are peering, others are looking for guidance. Some are even leering; they still haven’t forgiven him yet for killing Dag. It wasn’t entirely his fault, though. I still remember the sadness in his eyes. The man he once called a friend, laid before him with an axe in hand, his soul ready to enter Valhalla. He hesitated before letting Dag dine with the gods, like he almost didn’t want Dag to die in peace.

“Your secret is no longer safe.” I know that somewhere dark, he always wanted to be Jarl. I also know that he would never do to anything to harm his stepbrother. I’m surprised at how easily that sentence rolled off my tongue.

I see a spark in his eyes, like he always belonged there. He belongs on that throne, whether the people agree with it or not. They accept him as their new Jarl. His powerful posture, everything about him as he’s sitting on that throne is driving me absolutely insane. He is the only person holding me back from leaving this distasteful country.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. It isn't anything special, but I promise that there are a lot of twists and turns on the way that you're not physically, or mentally prepared for ;)
> 
> Peace out!
> 
> P.S if you have any requests (literally anything, unless its illegal lol), please let me know asap!


End file.
